


Slapstick

by shinesurge



Category: Kidd Commander (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Gen, i really need to start tagging stuff better rip, technically i guess lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22143310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinesurge/pseuds/shinesurge
Summary: A few of Agatha's resets.
Kudos: 5
Collections: 98% Canon





	Slapstick

The second time, Agatha's body is 16 years and eight months old, if anyone had been keeping count. Monterey, naturally, had swept the house for things that could give away the game, but Shoshanna's fingerprints cover everything like dust in old circuitry, are gathered in every surface and crevice.

Agatha fights. It doesn't matter, because her body wasn't built for fighting, and Monterey reconsiders the merits of allowing her the ability to argue with him.

* * *

Monterey decides a few cycles in that he doesn't like her keeping the name her mother gave her. He tries, with growing frustration, to change it, but it's stubborn like a stain. She won't answer to anything else, can't hold it in her head not out of obstinance but instinct. Even delving into her source code isn't enough, there is something there Monty doesn't understand and it's bright and angry, it wraps around the kernel of knowledge and refuses to let it go. It burns. He concedes this one thing, eventually.

* * *

While rearranging furniture, thirty-some years past her last birthday, Agatha finds an envelope that had fallen behind a display shelf. Her name is scribbled across the front in what might be crayon, next to a crude drawing of what looks like the shape of the manor. Agatha reads it and feels her eyes wet with something that can't be tears, because there's no reason to be upset over someone else's old mail, and because she can't do that anyway.

* * *

This time Monterey decides he might prefer a more formal title.

* * *

The signature in the letter _feels_ important, it's something she should know, something Mr. Goddard might know but something in her recoils violently at the thought of involving him. She doesn't know why she's crying.

Her list of potential allies she could question is painfully short. She quietly puts Myla's frequency into her transmitter, but somehow, before she can even finish, Mr. Goddard is there. He looks tired, his older face bleeding through his android's features.

* * *

The last time there is no letter. Agatha walks along an older street, hears an old sound, reels at the sudden onset of déja vu. There is nothing to recall, but for some reason afterward she feels angrier; the width of her shoulders is wrong, her skin is wrong, the heft of her weaponry aches.

She argues when Mr. Goddard asks her for things, answers too curtly, frowns too deeply. She would be much more pleasant to look at if she smiled more, he warns.

* * *

78 years after the first reset, Agatha describes the single recognized crime on record in Decodenn. No matter how many times she tells the story she always has to look up the names and the dates, she just can't seem to hold onto them. She feels a little pang of something when she pulls up the article; how lonesome this woman must have been that she had to build herself a daughter. She thinks about Shoshanna Goddard sometimes, when she gives these tours, and thinks they might have been friends if Agatha was capable of that sort of thing. Wrong place wrong time, ah well, nothing for it.


End file.
